if you don’t think Kate and Clint have matching arrow tattoos then i dont know what to tell u except that you underestimate how lame and in love with each other these losers are
(you reblogged that post like an hour ago bUT whatever) clintkate + 82
can you hear me? (of course u picked this one)
Kate raises her fist, hesitating. Why is she nervous? She was the one that walked out the door. He was the one that messed up. He should be the one standing outside her door, nervous at the thought of seeing her again.
Kate’s fist hovers for a solid minute while she thinks about what she was going to say because holy shit how did she not think of something to say to him on the entire trip from LA? Lucky, on the other hand, had no patience for Kate’s internal crisis and started dragging his claws across the wood of the door. Great.
Her hand lowers just as the door opens to reveal Clint in his typical ratty jeans and t-shirt, holding a mug filled to the brim with coffee (black, of course). He looks barely awake. That is, until he notices who exactly is standing on his doorstep and then his eyes go wide with surprise.
"Katie?" he says, a little loudly and unsure of himself, as if he wasn’t sure if he believed his own eyes.
"Yeah," Kate says with a defensive huff. She lets go of Lucky’s leash so he can sprint into the apartment towards the dog bed that her and Clint had bought him when she was still in New York. She’s surprised to see that Clint still has it.
Clint steps a side and sweeps out his arm, signaling for her to come into the apartment as if she hadn’t been practically living there only a few months ago. He spills coffee in the process but they both choose to ignore his slip up.
He closes the door and turns so he’s facing her. “I…uh…” He’s rubbing the back of his neck nervously. The familiar act is oddly comforting to Kate.
"I’m just going to save you the trouble of starting this conversation that is equal amounts of uncomfortable and important, not to mention unavoidable. Because knowing us, we’ll pretend everything is okay when it clearly isn’t because we’re both terrible with feelings. In fact that’s why we need this conversation because holy shit is this whole situation between us really messed up. It’s the type of mess that I tell Billy about and then he pulls that whole ‘This could have been avoided with proper communication’ speech that he gives me and Tommy like three times a month, which he totally did last night, by the way." She stops to take a deep a breath and realizes she’s been talking too much, too fast. This is what happens when you don’t plan what to say in an awkward conversation. When she looks up at Clint she notices that he hasn’t turned his head towards the floor as she expected him to. That’s what he always does when she has a serious converstion. He’s always had an issue with looking people in the eyes. In fact, he’s been looking her directly face to face during her whole rant. What’s up with that?
Despite him watching her face the whole time, he still looks confused and overwhelmed. Was he even paying attentiont to her?
"You’re not paying attention to me are you?" she all but shouts, suddenly angry. "Clint, I went across the country because I was upset with you and I come back and you don’t even listen to me?" He looks even more confused now, his eyebrows furrowing. "Can you even hear me?"
Kate’s so busy trying to figure out why he isn’t talking that she doesn’t notice Barney is in the living room, sitting on the couch until he says “He’s deaf.”
Kate whips her head around. “What?”
"Kate, right?" he asks. "Barney. I’m sure you’ve heard as much about me as I have about you."
"What do you mean he’s deaf?" Kate persists. How did she not know about this?
Barney tells the story of how he got put into a wheelchair and how Clint lost his hearing. Clint takes this moment, after figuring out quickly the story he was telling from reading his lips, to clean up the coffee he spilled earlier.
He looks into his mug and then to floor. Shit. He spilled more than he’d thought. And if the stain on the bottom of his shirt is any indication, he definitely got some on himself, as well.
He decided to clean the dishes while Kate was filled in on everything she missed. Anything to keep himself from looking at her and trying to figure out what words were being formed by her lips. Why did she always have to talk so damn fast?
Twenty minutes and a sink full of dishes later, Clint finally puts away the last of the dishes. Turning around to put the dirty dish rag on the counter, he notices that Kate is standing next to the coffee pot, leaning up against the counter. They lock eyes and Clint is grateful that Kate isn’t looking at him with pity. He doesn’t know if he could handle her of all people feeling sorry for him.
In one swift movement, Kate pushes her self from the counter and crosses the small kitchen to wrap her arms around Clint’s shoulders. IT takes him a moment to understand what’s happening before his arms are drapping themselves across her waist.
She says something. He doesn’t know what she says but he can feel the vibrations from her mouth where she’s mumbling into his neck. He isn’t completely sure but he has a feeling it was “Dummy.”
I want a fic where Kate's family just absolutely hates Clint. She brings him to family dinner once. Heather keeps giving him shade because he accidentally slurped his soup, and his button up has a small stain on it and his tie isn't tied right. Mr. Bishop keeps mumbling about how he's much too old for Kate ("He's what - fifteen years older than you?" "Dad, I literally went to school with your wife."). Susan doesn't like how bruised up Kate always is, and there is obviously only one explanation for that.
Then they somehow find out Clint is an Avenger, and Kate thinks that'll make it better but nope. That just makes them hate him more ("Do you know how dangerous it is to get involved with one of those people?") until finally Kate's brother-in-law casually points out that there's another Hawkeye that just happens to look a lot like Kate.
Yeah so remember how I said that all the au crossover post made me want to do fairytale speakeasy au? I just said fuck it and went with my Journeys ‘verse heart:
“Should’ve told you stay home, Katie-Kate.”
Smoke tendrils sneaked out of Clint’s nostrils as he stared down the uniformed thugs currently inspecting their place of business. They were on the look for whiskey, claiming their little gathering place was an illegal bar. It was more of a tavern honestly, with the brick wall one of the man was leaning against actually leading to a staircase and a set of rooms, but unless they were Wayfarer or Wanderer, they’d never find it.
Kate was a Bishop of the Eastern Wood. She’d had the very birth rite of guardianship in her blood, even if her father had turned it into a profit-enterprise rather than a duty fulfilled and freely given. For the sake of their very world and the risk of discovery, she would have never let a dragon such as Clint come to the Other Side alone.
This land was mad, not least because they’d made it illegal to drink liquor.
“You would’ve burned this city down without me to stop, and then where would you be?” she asked. “Despite the interesting offer from that man—Ringling, was it?—I do not think you could make much profit as a fire-breathing man. Even if you could, you would never be able to hide your scales that long. I know how you like to spread your wings.”
Clint, despite the bloody lip and the bruise forming around his left eye from the policeman’s baton, grinned. “And you always demand to ride me at least once a week.”
Kate did not blush—not after forty years at that dragon’s side. She saw a handful of the police officer’s watching low, pointing to the wall hooks next to Clint’s head and the mirror over the bar long table were a spread of food remained untouched.
Kate didn’t want them coming any closer. Eli and David were behind that wall, and there would be so much more at stake than whiskey if the police got their hands on a wizard and a realm jumper.
Kate straightened her back and ran a hand through her short hair. It was a style she’d seen one of the girls at a music club wear, and now her hair just brushed her cheek. She knew the lights above her head would make the bracelets on her arm glitter and draw attention her away. She shifted on her chair, aware of the police watching her every movement, saw the few who were distracted enough to glance at her knees, and snapped her fingers twice in a signal to Eli.
The police would never find the whiskey here, not with Eli casting a spell on all the barrels and enchanting them to look like crates of books.
“What are you about to do, princess?” Clint asked.
Kate tilted her head back to look at him and smirked, just quick enough for him to see.
“The wizard’s not the only one with a little magic. I want these men out of our sanctuary.and away from our alley. I want our clientele to know we’re still open for business and they can bring their ladies and gentlemen here for a night of fun. After all these police have run off either with clouded minds or broken bones, I wouldn’t mind a drink, a dance, and a smoke with a man who never knows where to put his hands until I show him.”
